


I Will Follow

by jamwrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Blood and Violence, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Swearing, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8466682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamwrites/pseuds/jamwrites
Summary: Keith and Lance are bound by their soulmate tattoos, bound to meet again and again with each new new life. When lives hang in the balance, that bond will be sorely tested.An explosion of golden pleasure and joy and love for Keith rushed through Lance’s body like a tidal wave, every bit as strong as when the flower had first bloomed. His legs suddenly were gooey; it was everything he could do not to crumple to the floor.“Okay, okay,” Lance said, panting a little. “Sorry.”But he was smiling while he said it, because now he wanted nothing more than to be close to Keith, and he could tell Keith wanted the same.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My contractually obligated soulmark au. It had to happen eventually. 
> 
> Come talk Klance to me on tumblr [wuhkie](http://www.wuhkie.tumblr.com) :D

_ 12 hours before _

Lance waded through the billowing steam of the showers, thick as the fog on the beach of his home back on Earth. The tiles were pleasantly warm on his bare feet, and the steam caressed his skin with spectral fingers that raised goosebumps with their touch. He curled his lips in a feral grin; he prey was close at hand. 

“Oh Keee--iiithhhh!” He called in a sing-song voice into the showers. “Keee-iiiithh, my darling boyfriend, where art thou?”

From somewhere to his left, Keith’s voice drifted from the veils of steam, tight with irritation. “Over here.” 

Hmm. Where was-oh, there. Lance squinted and finally made out a human-looking shape in the cavernous showers. And it was Keith, all right. Lance would know that ass from a mile away. And those hips, leading up into a muscled back..and shoulders…

Not to mention the flower tattoo that was beginning to bud at the base of Keith’s neck. The tangle of vines sprouted from somewhere in the dark other dimension of Keith’s mullet, and grew in graceful arcs until they were almost touching the small of his back. And there, between Keith’s shoulder blades (also covered with a layer of toned muscle), bloomed a single blue rose. 

It was this rose that Lance pressed his fingers to first. He felt the instant response in Keith’s body, the tightening of those muscles, the shiver of pleasure. 

“How are we this morning?” 

“Great, until someone poked my freaking soul flower.” 

“Hey, it technically represents me, so I think I get to touch it.” 

Keith turned on Lance. They were both naked, of course, and even though Lance had seen his boyfriend naked a hundred times by this point, he still can’t seem to stop his eyes from drinking in Keith’s chest, those muscles that stretched lean under his skin, his stomach with the fine trail of black hair leading down--

“My eyes are up here.” Keith poked Lance’s nipple, and then, before Lance could react, shoved his thumb right into the red rose on Lance’s hip. 

An explosion of golden pleasure and joy and  _ love _ for Keith rushed through Lance’s body like a tidal wave, every bit as strong as when the flower had first bloomed. His legs suddenly were gooey; it was everything he could do not to crumple to the floor. 

“Okay, okay,” Lance said, panting a little. “Sorry.” 

But he was smiling while he said it, because now he wanted nothing more than to be close to Keith, and he could tell Keith wanted the same. 

Their tattoos were weird. Lance would be the first to admit it. Well, most everyone had them, but that didn’t mean it was any less strange or magical or whatever. The rose on Lance’s hip  _ was  _ Keith; it had bloomed when they had first touched, after what seemed like an eternity of awkwardly dropping hints at each other around the Castle about how they felt. That time had been awful because Keith was acting even more angsty than usual, since he had had to keep his crush for Lance bottled up. And hey, Lance couldn’t blame the guy. He would be angsty too, if he had a crush on someone as dashing as himself. 

Which he had, and his name was Keith. And they were meant for each other. Not in a soppy rom-com sort of way, but, like, fated to fall in love. Their souls had literally been made to fit together. 

But the most amazing fact was, this was their first life. Their first flower. Their souls were new to the universe, and had found each other for the first time. Lance still couldn’t believe it. They had visited dozens of planets and systems since beginning the war anew with the Galra. Had saved billions of lives and had to free tens of billions more. 

And yet. He and Keith had found each other. The one person Lance was destined for in the entire universe, and he had found him living like alone like a little hermit man in the desert. After being ignored by him at the Garrison for years. It hadn’t exactly been love at first sight, but hey. If the glove fits. The fingerless, emo edgelord gloves that Keith was fond of, to be precise. 

So this was their first life. And when they died, they would be reborn, and they would find each other again, and grow another flower. And so on and so forth until…

Well, the accounts varied. Some religions on Earth held it that you and your soulmate met each other again and again forever, in an infinite amount of lifetimes. 

But Lance’s family belonged to a different group. They believed that lovers had to find each other one hundred times, in one hundred lives. And after their last life together, their souls would be melded and reborn as one, to live together for all eternity. Inseparable. 

Sometimes Lance had trouble reconciling that idea with the guy who washed his hands after eating Cheetos instead of licking his fingers. 

But right  _ now _ , they were making out in the shower, and Keith was running his fingers through Lance’s hair. The taste of Keith flooded Lance’s mouth and traveled down his throat. He wanted more. He always wanted more. It was...beyond simple attraction. His soul ached to be one with Keith’s; that was just how they were made. 

Lance’s heart felt like a newborn star. Bright. Burning. Unquenchable, insatiable. 

They kissed until the water ran cold. 

 

_ 1 hour and 34 minutes before _

“Make no mistake; they are coming.” Allura stood on the dais of the Castle of Lions’ control bridge, looking down at all of them assembled below. Keith was only half listening; the other part of him was fiercely debating whether or not to hold Lance’s hand. They were in front of everyone! Wouldn’t it be embarrassing? 

But everyone knew they were dating anyway. 

But still!

“I won’t lie to you, Paladins. We’re in a bad spot right now. Two of our three main reactors are offline, and the crystal is leaking energy faster than it’s giving it out. Right now there isn’t enough power for me to open a wormhole.” The stars wheeled in cold indifference behind Allura. “I’m not sure how long we can fend off the Galra. But what’s important is that we have the Quintessence Core. Without it, the Galra cannot drain worlds. They are crippled. Now it’s just a game of keep-away until we figure out how to destroy it permanently.”

Hunk raised his hand. “But, uh, help is coming, right? Like, we’re not all going to die here? Because that would be great. If we didn’t all die today.” 

“Yes, Hunk, help is on the way.” A smile touched Allura’s face. “But our allies’ ships are slow, and they might not arrive for some time. Until they arrive or we get the crystal back online, you will all need to defend the Castle in your lions. As it stands now, we’re sitting...what do you call them on Earth?”

“Ducks,” Shiro said helpfully. 

“Right. We’re sitting ducks.” 

Did Lance even want to hold hands? Maybe that was a stupid question. Lance was pretty much always up for making out, so it stood to reason that he would be fine with holding hands. But Keith couldn’t ask him out loud, so what was he supposed to do?

It didn’t help that Keith was still distracted by his soul flower, tingling between his shoulder blades. Lance had practically punched him there, knowing exactly what it would do to Keith. 

Because, of course, their tattoos contained a massive amount of energy. They were a part of a person, yet separate too. If people were birds, then the tattoos were the instincts that drove them to migrate and got them to the same spot year after year. The tattoos were...well, what made destiny  _ work _ . Without them, Keith would still be meant for Lance, but he would have no guarantee that he would find the other boy in any of his next lives. By his tattoo, he was tethered to his other half. 

Something like that was obviously very powerful, so when someone went and  _ poked _ him there, it sent one’s nervous system into freakout mode. Keith could still feel the residual longing to bear-hug Lance and cover him with kisses and press their souls as close together as they could get. 

The tattoos were kind of freaky. 

But why couldn’t anything just be simple? Shiro and Allura never bothered to ask about holding hands because they were on their 13th life or whatever ridiculously lovely number Shiro had told Keith. He had seen the older man shirtless before; his whole arm was covered with purple-white flowers. Those were what the Galra had been experimenting on. Shiro still didn’t even know what kind of energy they had tapped from the tattoo that allowed his hand to glow with deadly purple force.

But he and Lance? Life one. Level uno, bottom of the totem pole. He didn’t know his soulmate well enough to know about hands--

Lance was raising his hand. Why was Lance raising his hand?

“Yes...Lance?” Allura called on him, her speech all but finished. 

Lance grinned. “Thank you. I would just like to announce to everyone that I want to hold my boyfriend’s hand now.”

“That’s...great.” Allura frowned. “Why did we all need to know that?”

Pidge adjusted her glasses and snorted. “Because he just wanted to hear himself call Keith his boyfriend again.”

“Correct,” Lance said, pointing at Pidge. “I do indeed draw much pleasure from dating this fine piece of a--.

The other Paladins all spoke at once.  _ “Lance.” _

“--stronomically handsome man.” He turned to Keith and looked at him with mock seriousness in his eyes. “Keith, darling, I dearly want to hold your hand in mine. Is that okay?”

Keith nodded like a dumb animal, unable to speak. His ears felt like they were on fire. 

And then Lance was holding Keith’s hand. How did he do that? Or even think of that kind of stuff? Why couldn’t Keith ever be like that? Spontaneous and fun and cute?

Everyone was rolling their eyes now and wandering off to their lion’s hangars, leaving Keith and Lance alone. 

They kissed each other for luck (lighting fireworks in Keith’s stomach) and then left for their lions as well. 

Lance’s hand slipping out of Keith’s felt like something passing on. 

The skin under his tattoo crawled. 

  
  


_ 45 minutes before _

“Shit shit shit shit shit--”

_ “Lance, would you please watch your language?” _

“Sorry Shiro-- _ shit! _ Fuck you, Galra shitbag!”  

Lance couldn’t really help himself. The swearing was therapeutic. Calmed the nerves and all that. And boy, did his nerves need calming: there were about a thousand bajillion Galra fighter ships whizzing around like a swarm of crazy-ass bees, all aiming death lasers right for Lance. 

_ “Pidge! Close the gap on the Castle’s starboard!” _

_ “I’m on it!” _

This was bad, even for Team Voltron, which was used to bad situations. The Castle was barely limping through space to begin with, and now half the Galra empire had shown up to take them out while the getting was good. Lance just knew that somewhere, in some warship, Haggar was pissing herself laughing at them. It had been her stupid purple lightning that had crippled the Castle at their last encounter. And now they were here. Alone. And they were all going to die. 

Lance turned the volume down on the group com and opened a new channel just to Keith. 

“How are you doing, honey bunches?”

Keith’s voice crackled in Lance’s ear.  _ “Wonderful. And don’t call me that.” _

“Darling Keith, you appear to have a Galra fighter on your tail. Are you going to kill him or shall I?”

_ “Okay, ‘Darling Keith’ is even worse. Where do you even get these names?” _

“Shiro talks in his sleep.”

They both cracked up at that, but then a group of fighters seem to want to take a run at the Castle. Lance punched the throttle to intercept them. Through his mind-melded connection with his lion, he fired off several shots from a tail that felt like his tail, squeezed off a freeze ray that felt so much a part of him it made his chest cold. 

If only he could feel this with Keith. Even the thought sent goosebumps trickling down his arms.  _ One day. _ Ninety-nine lifetimes from now. 

“Keith, sweetums--”

_ “No.” _

“Googleybea--”

_ “Nope.” _

“I was thinking. After this is all over, do you wanna go get some dinner somewhere?”

There was a beat of silence before Keith responded.  _ “Are you asking me out on a date?” _

“Yes, yes I am. I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock tonight. Business-casual dress.”

_ “Fine, but I get to pick the restaurant.” _

It was an old joke between them. Too much of their lives these days were spent crammed in the confines of the Castle, which made it extremely hard to have anything resembling a private relationship, or have any variety in date venues. Green goo served from a hose wasn’t exactly the most romantic of dinner options. 

Lance was just about to try a new round of pet names when something slammed into the side of his lion. A chorus of sirens and red lights lit up his cabin, and he immediately felt a drag on his speed. 

_ “Lance! Are you okay?” _

“I’m good, Shir--”

His lion’s right hip exploded, and he nearly screamed with her pain. Now the red lights were flashing in earnest. Galra fighters were clouding around him.  _ Shit shit shit shit  _ shit. Lance fired a volley of lasers to cut some of the fighters away, but more just kept taking their place. And he--his lion--was leaking fluids. His back right leg wasn’t responding at all anymore. What the hell had he been hit with? 

_ “Lance, your lion is badly injured.” _

“Thanks Allura. I think I got that.” 

_ “You have to get out of there! You’re losing too much power.”  _

It was true; the lasers Lance fired from his tail were growing weaker by the second. Blue’s movements were becoming more and more sluggish, and the slower he got, the less lasers he was able to dodge. This wasn’t good at all. 

He gritted his teeth. “Fine, I’ll find some cover. Have Coran figure out a way to patch me up.”

_ “We’ll try. Just--” _

Allura cut out with a sizzle as something exploded across his viewport shield. Lance was nearly thrown out of his seat with the force of it. His head hit dashboard,  _ crack.  _

Lights out. 

 

_ 156 days before _

“Is this okay? Are you sure?” Lance stopped, his hands on Keith’s bare chest, their hot breath on each other’s faces. Laying on the sheets, Keith looked up at him. A flush spread over his pale skin. 

They were both trembling.

“Yes,” Keith said, and closed the small distance between them. Their mouths met and broke away. Hands slid downward. “I’m sure.”

 

_ 39 minutes before _

When Lance returned to the land of the living, spiderweb cracks were spreading across the glass.

A half-human moan bubbled out of his throat. His vision swam. Nothing would stand up straight. 

With another moan, he threw up on the floor.  _ Sorry, Blue. _

Stand. He had to stand. Or at least get to the controls. This he did via crawling, not trusting his legs to do the work. He tried a few buttons. Nothing.

Something curled in his gut. It felt like fear. 

“Keith! Hunk! I have no power! Hello?” Nobody. His lion was dead in space. 

Okay. Okay. What could he do? Focus. 

Maybe...maybe he could manually reset the circuits. Buy himself enough juice to make it back to the Castle, get his coms back if he was lucky. 

But he would have to go. Now. Every second he sat, a dozen more shots were tearing into Blue’s hull. 

Lance reached for a solid object and pulled himself to his feet. 

 

_ 37 minutes before _

“Lance! Lance, answer me!” Keith slammed a fist into the arm of his chair. He could see Lance’s lion, floating like a dead thing in space, surrounded by fighters. He had to do something. 

“I’m going to get him!”

_ “Keith, no! There are too many. We have to go together. Just wait for me.” _

“If we wait, there’s not going to by anyone to save, Shiro.” Keith’s voice was shaking. Panic fluttered in his chest. Was Lance okay? Was he even conscious? There was no way he was waiting. He had to go now. 

On his back, Keith’s single flower pulsed with nervous energy. He could feel Lance’s pain through its petals. 

“I’m going in,” Keith said, and punched the accelerator handles. Red reacted like a lightning streak. 

But even as he watched, Blue’s eyes flickered to a weak life, and then a blast of fire rocketed from the lion, and she was drifting towards the castle, dead once more. 

Yes! Lance must have reset the circuit hub. That meant he was okay. Or at least healthy enough to move. 

His lion was in worse shape, though. She was drifting towards the Castle, but she would have no way of stopping once she got there. And the fighters were attacking her every second of her slow journey. 

A red fury rose in Keith’s throat. It was hazy, sparking, howling like a desert storm. He barely had time to feel the blowing grains of sand it flung up before the winds hit. 

It was time like these that he fully mind-melded with Red. Her limbs were his limbs, her strength flowing from his muscles. One day he would be this close to Lance. But today he had to save him. 

Galra fighters exploded like firecrackers around him. They were paper and he was an inferno. All the avenging fires of hell versus a brittle and breaking forest. 

Keith banked right, left. Dodged laserfire with a flick of thought. He swatted down a fighter, caught another in his jaws. Bit. Hard. The ship snapped in half like a toothpick. 

_ Fire cannons. Swipe. Fire again. _ It was reflex. Instinct. Keith bathed himself in death and carnage until it stained his thoughts maroon. He was a warrior of flames and fury, facing a battlefield filled with paper men. They fell before him like dust and ashes.

He turned, ready to slice through another ship, but there were none close enough. 

He had killed them all. 

“Lance.  _ Lance. _ ” Keith’s chest was heaving. When had he gotten so sweaty? “Come in. Lance! Please be okay, please, come in--”

_ “I’m here.” _

Relief doused the flames. Keith sank back into his pilot’s chair. Lance was alive. He was alive. 

_ “I rigged...I rigged up the com system for now, but I can only get through to you. I’m falling to the Castle.”  _ Alive, but tired.  _ “Could you ask Allura to let me in?” _

Yes, he could. Allura wouldn’t like it, but Keith would ask her. Lowering the barrier would leave her exposed to enemy fire. The Castle was weak enough already; Keith wasn’t sure if it could take any more damage. 

But this was Lance they were talking about. There was no other option. 

_ “I don’t like this.”  _ Allura was reacting just like Keith thought she would. Impatience pounded in his chest. A frantic drumbeat. 

“We don’t have a choice!”

_ “Keith, I know. Believe me, I know. But something seems off. The Galra’s war formations are...different.”  _

“I don’t care!” Why couldn’t she see that Lance was going to die unless he got inside? Didn’t she care about him? 

_ “We should wai--” _

“No. No waiting. I’m taking Lance into Hangar 1. Get the barrier down. Now.” Keith turned off his coms. He knew Allura would do it. Shiro and the rest could handle themselves for now; he had to make sure Lance was okay. 

Keith angled Red around so that she could take Blue in her jaws and fly them both into the castle. One by one, Galra drones peeled away from their fleets to heckle them, but most of their half hearted shots were going wide or hitting heavily shielded areas of the lions. They were going to make it. They were going to be alright. 

The particle barrier flickered and then winked out. Keith flew into range of the castle, taking no more notice of the enemy ships around him than a lion would take of flies. 

_ Lance _ . Lance was all that mattered. 

 

_ 23 minutes before _

Lance must have passed out in Blue, because when he came to, the Castle was rearing up in front of him like a beast about to swallow him whole. 

He was dimly aware of landing; his head seemed to clear up a bit when Blue hit solid ground. Ugh. His head. Lance reached up and touched a spot above his neck, and his hand came away bloody. 

Panic pulsed in his hip. With shaking hands, Lance lifted up his black bodysuit and brushed the red rose. Keith was almost sick with worry. Aw, how cute. He  _ did _ care. 

“ _ Lance! _ ” Blue had let someone in. There was only one person she would do that for without Lance’s permission, and he was yanking the pilot’s chair around and grabbing Lance’s shoulders. “Lance! Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

Lance gave Keith a wobbly thumb’s up. “Never better.” And then, with some surprise: “You followed me.” 

“I’ll always follow you, stupid. I think you’re concussed.” Frowning, Keith drew one of Lance’s arms up and around his shoulder, and together they stood. For a moment the world tilted, but then righted itself again. Lance told Blue he was sorry for getting her hurt. Or maybe that was just in his head. It was kind of hard to tell right now. It seemed like the bone between his brain and reality had gone all squishy and now his thoughts were leaking out. 

Keith walked him down out of Blue and into the hangar. But wait. Was this the Castle? It couldn’t be. 

“Shit,” Keith swore under his breath. 

“Shit-t-t,” Lance sang. Keith had flown them into the wrong ship! Galra soldiers had surrounded them, rifles raised. What a silly mistake. “Sorry! Wrong ship!” Lance doubled over in laughter. Warmth trickled down his neck. His flower was a little scaredy-cat. 

One of the Galra was talking. She seemed like some sort of general or something, because she looked a lot more badass than anyone else in the room. 

“I must thank you, Paladins, for letting down the particle barrier for us.” Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “Truth be told, I didn’t expect that plan to work, or to get two for the price of one.” 

“Ha!” Lance pointed at her. She had forgotten to shave; her face was all furry. “Joke’s on you, lady. You could have just killed us in in our lions. Now you have to kill us and then your lions.” 

The general turned to him, eyebrow raised. “How observant. You’ll be pleased to know, however, that your death is not the objective of my plan. Though you do raise an interesting point…” 

Keith’s hand tightened on Lance’s waist. 

The general waved a hand in dismissal. “The Emperor wants any captured Paladins brought to him alive...though I suppose I can’t have you performing any last-minute heroics. Shoot them to wound. Badly.” 

The soldiers raised their weapons. Woops. Guns weren’t good for people. 

But then Keith’s blue shield bloomed and the lasers richochet off. That would teach them! Idiots. You can’t shoot through a shield. Duh.

A white hot pain sprouted in the back of Lance’s thigh. He screamed, and the floor hit him in the face. A moment later Keith landed beside him. Blood coated his lips red. 

Lance was really tired of passing out today. But his body wasn’t giving him much of a choice. 

 

_ 7 days before _

“That one looks like a turtle,” Lance said, pointing up at the clouds. Grass tickled Keith’s cheek as he laughed. His hand was warm where it was nestled in Lance’s. 

Lance leaned over and kissed his cheek. “And those ones are little turtle babies. They’re a happy turtle family.”

“They just look like blobs to me.”

“Keith!” Lance gasped in mock-horror. “You offend the Cloud Turtle gods. Just enjoy them and their beautiful life while they are here. The cloud folk don’t live very long.” 

Keith could only laugh at his idiotic, breathtakingly cute boyfriend. He scooched closer to said boyfriend and buried his head in the crook of Lance’s neck. Overhead, the turtles hit a gust of wind and blew apart. 

After a while, Lance got up to run to the Castle. He wanted some lemonade, or whatever the Altean equivalent was. 

“Wait,” Keith said. “I’ll follow you.”

“It’s fine dude, I can get it.”

Keith was much too enamored with this moment and this boy to let him leave. 

“Nope. Wherever you go, I go.” 

 

_ 17 minutes before _

_ “--has sustained critical levels of damage. Please evacuate immediately. The Castle has sustained critical levels of damage. Please evacuate immediately.”  _

Keith moaned, and shifted. Blinked at the ceiling overhead, flashing in warning. A robotic voice was telling them to leave over the PA system. 

Lance. 

The rest of his body snapped to waking, and Keith forced himself to roll over. His shirt was slick with his own blood, but he hardly noticed. Lance was face-down on the hangar floor. Bile rose in his throat. 

“Lance!” For the second time that day, Keith was shaking Lance awake. The effort brought tears of pain to his eyes. “Wake up. You’re okay. You have to be okay.” 

Lance’s eyelids fluttered. And then he was looking up at Keith, his mouth already spreading in a crooked grin. 

“I must be an angel, ‘cause you’re in heaven.” He frowned. “Wait. I messed that up.” 

“Oh thank gods.” Keith surged forward and kissed Lance on the mouth. When he broke away, he was breathless, and his mind had finished processing several things: this was his fault. All of it. He had led the Galra right inside the Castle’s barrier just like they wanted. Also, his shoulder had just been shot, and it was not a happy camper. “I have to go. I think Allura’s in trouble. Stay here, and whatever you do, do not fall asleep.”

“Wha? No, I’m going with you.” Lance struggled to his feet, and then stumbled. He was bleeding out of his thigh; his white armor looked, ridiculously, like a child had painted it red with her hands. 

It would take time to convince Lance he had to stay. Keith made a decision. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” 

And so they set off hobbling down the hall together. Keith had pulled Lance’s arm over his neck once again, but this time his shoulder felt like it was shattering with the weight of Lance’s body. He bit his lip instead of screaming. They had to keep going. 

Slowly, gently, Lance’s left hand slipped into Keith’s, and guided it down under Lance’s shirt and to the warm skin of his hip. Lance’s tattoo pulsed like a newborn star under Keith’s fingers. He could feel love there. As clear as day, Lance exuded love. And it was all for Keith. 

He stood a little straighter.

 

_ 10 minutes before _

The Quintessence Core. That was what they were after. 

Keith explained it to Lance while they were run-limping down the Castle’s corridors. Oddly enough, losing consciousness again seemed to have given Lance’s brain a chance to catch its breath. At least now he didn’t think all of this was funny. 

Well, any more than normal. Lance secretly thought it was kind of hilarious that their mortal enemies were giant purple cat people. But still. 

“This is my fault,” Lance said as they rounded a corner. “I got hit.”

“Don’t be stupid, they were targeting you from the beginning. You heard that Galra. She used you. Both of us.”

After that, they had to save their breath for moving. Lance had been hit right below his ass, and Keith in his upper bicep/shoulder area. Galra lasers semi-cauterized on contact, so they weren’t bleeding to badly, but there were still big holes in their bodies. Big,  _ painful  _ holes. They were hurt. But they were going to be okay. Eventually. 

Up a flight of stairs, down a hall, through three sets of doors. Why was this castle so freaking huge? What if there had once been a bigger family to live in the Castle? 

Lance pushed away the thought. He knew what it was to have a huge family, and he couldn’t imagine losing a single one of them. 

“This it is.” Keith had stopped just before the tall set of double doors that led to the bridge. There weren’t even any guards posted outside; maybe the asscheek was a more painful spot for Galra to be hit in. Whatever. Easier for them. 

“So…” Lance reached for his Bayard. “We just goin’ in?”

“Do you have a better plan?” 

“Not really, no.” He squeezed Keith’s hand where he held it over his tattoo. The feeling was strange, a looping cycle of Keith feeling Lance’s love through the tattoo that represented his ties to Keith’s soul. If only he could touch Keith’s flower, under all that armor. 

On the count of three, Keith summoned his sword and sliced through the locked doors. Lance willed his rifle into existence, prepared to shoot. 

His mind took in several things at once. 

The first was Allura, tied back to back with Coran. Both of them were bruised and battered and surrounded by a pile of broken Galra grunts, but alive nonetheless. 

The second was that there were a lot of healthy Galra soldiers, all guarding the general, who knelt on the central dais. At her feet lay the Castle’s Balmera crystal, broken and run through with huge cracks. 

But the worst part was the Quintessence Core. It was a little glowing object the size of a baseball. It floated in the general’s outstretched palm like the little traitor it was. 

The general was opening her mouth to start some evil monologue, but Lance had lost a lot of blood today, and he was a too tired for this shit. 

He raised his rifle and shot her in the head. 

Her body crumpled to the floor, and the Quintessence Core fell with it. Before anyone could react, the Core shattered on the tile. 

Quintessence went everywhere. It bathed them all in a galaxy of light and energy, inverting the world into a black-light rave of colors. Everything danced and sparked with agitation and wonder and living. Lance’s tattoo burned so hotly he could feel Keith’s thoughts. 

He wiped some life goo off his forehead. 

“Alright boys and girls. Let’s go.” 

The fight was a short one, and bitter. Lance was sick of all of this. All he wanted was to be in bed, tangled up in Keith. He shot and ducked and rolled, but took no pleasure in the killing. Every time he pulled the trigger on a Galra, their eyes lost their light like Blue had when she had been wounded. 

_ They’re targets. That’s it. Don’t think. Shoot.  _

“Stay with me!” Keith reached for Lance, and he gave him his hand. Together, Keith and Lance swung into a dance of breaking bones and blood. Lance dropped to a knee while Keith slashed over his head, and then stood and spun while Keith shielded him from incoming fire. They were one being, one soul, turning and turning, perfectly in sync, a whirling war machine that dealt death wherever it faced. The bridge, covered in Quintessence, throbbed neon with the slowing heartbeat of the universe.

Allura had managed to cut herself out of her ropes, and she lowered Coran gently down on the floor before dashing to the controls. 

“Paladins! To the Castle!” 

Lance and Keith moved up to the dais to defend her while she piloted. Galra warships had them surrounded now, and the particle barrier was losing its will to live; the crystal had been too badly damaged. 

“Allura, what do we do?” Lance ducked to allow Keith to slash at a soldier running blindly towards them. Pain. In his leg, in his head. His finger ached from pulling the trigger. 

“I...I don’t know!” Allura slammed her hands down on the controls in frustration. “There isn’t enough energy to open a wormhole, but we can’t stay here or we’ll be torn apart!” 

_ “There are too many of them!”  _ The com crackled to life in Lance’s ear, delivering to him the panicked voices of his teammates. 

_ “Pidge, on your right!” _

_ “Taking heavy fire!” _

_ “Guys, this sucks! My shields are down!” _

_ “I thought you were supposed to be the defensive one!” _

_ “Everyone has their limits, okay Pidge?” _

For all that everyone was panicking, Lance felt as if he had been marooned on a strange island of calm in the hurricane. As long as he had Keith at his back, connected through their tattoos, he could do anything. Nothing was hopeless as long as they were together. 

No sooner had the thought flitted through his head than Keith let out a gut wrenching scream, and dropped. 

 

_ 25 days before _

“Where do you want to live?”

“Huh?” Keith looked at Lance through the mirror. They were in the middle of their morning routine, Lance shaving with an old razor, Keith trying to coax his hair into a peaceful surrender. 

“After the war’s over. Where do you want to live? I mean, my family probably wouldn’t notice one more person in our house, but I’m not sure you’d want to live all the way in Cuba.”

Keith couldn’t find any words. He was staring at this boy as he spoke. As he imagined a reality Keith had never let himself hope for. Tears pricked at his eyes. 

“I was thinking a beach. Not like Cuba, but somewhere in New England maybe? Where it gets colder. We could live in a lighthouse and look for ships in the ocean and save people. I mean, we’re going to live together right? Duh, yeah we are.” Lance wiped away the last of his shaving cream, and dolloped it on Keith’s nose. “You won’t be able to get rid of me. Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

_ 4 minutes before _

He had slipped in blood. That was what had done it. Keith had gotten so caught up in the fight that he had stopped paying attention to his feet, and now he was paying the price. 

The bolt had hit him in the ribs. His armor was smoking; the plasma had gone straight through to nestle in his flesh. Keith knelt, clutching his side, willing himself to get back up. Pain stood over him like a spectre. Laughing. 

Around them, everything was falling apart. Through his com, he heard his friends being overwhelmed by the Galra fleet. Allura was scrambling. Trying to coax a wormhole out of the Castle. If something didn’t change, they were all going to die here. 

The fact hit him softly. A breathe of wind. They were going to die here. Simple as that. 

Keith sucked air in short, painful bursts. Lance was kneeling beside him with concern written all over his face, ignoring his opponents.

Neon colors danced before his eyes. Allura sprinted towards the Galra. She was too slow, too slow. Too much distance between her fists and their faces and the triggers of their guns.

Keith clenched his jaw, and focused on Lance. He pushed his swelling heart through his tattoo, so hard that Lance’s flower would be near to bursting with his love and warning.

“Look...out…”

“Keith! Hang on! Just--”

Lance grunted, and fell silent. A moment later, another shot slammed into Keith’s back. His jetpack wasn’t as heavily armored, so the bolt went straight through and struck between his shoulders. 

His tattoo. Keith couldn’t help it.

He screamed. 

**

_ Get. Up.  _

The pain was an ocean, a riptide dragging Keith down. The surface, the shimmering sunlight on the waves, was falling further and further away. Keith felt the cool metal of the floor on his cheek, and the hot blood running down his back. His back. It felt wrong. His tattoo was...shorting out, for lack of a better phrase. His connection to Lance, which was normally there always, like air or sight, was fading in and out. 

_ Do something. You’re better than this.  _

He had fallen right in front of the Balmera crystal. It cast a weak glow on his face. So pretty. 

Keith was hallucinating. Billowing curtains of steam. Lance, in the shower that morning, poking his tattoo. Releasing all that energy. The Balmera crystal. A throbbing heartbeat. His mind struggled to put the pieces together. 

It was so simple.

Keith knew what he had to do. 

Drawing one more shuddering breath for strength, Keith reached out and touched the crystal. It was cool, solid. Hurting. He could feel the agony pulsing within it. Another handful of moments and it would be dead. 

Shiro was shouting in his hear. They were heavily outnumbered, and losing. Bad. Another few minutes and the Paladins would start dying. 

His skin prickled where the Quintessence had splattered. If the Galra figured out a way to rebuild the Core, billions of people would die. 

He blinked a tear away. 

“Lance,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

And then he began to push. 

He summoned every memory of Lance he had. From the moment they had met to the this very second, he gathered them. Lance’s crooked smile. The smell of his jacket, his skin, his hair. The way he moved. The kindness in his heart. The jokes that concealed the hurt that lived there. Keith wanted it all. He was ravenous. 

With his other hand, in his mind, he reached out through his tattoo. The connections it had through the universe, like roots spreading beneath his skin and into the stars; they sang with his memories of Lance. He felt out every one of the million. They were singed and smoking from the damage of the laser bolt. The ties he had to Lance were crumbling, though they might be repaired if Keith took the time to do so. 

But there was no time. 

In this strange in-between space, Keith’s summoned thoughts of Lance formed a little world. In it, he was holding his soulmate’s hand. But he couldn’t for much longer. 

_ The crystal _ , he urged his tattoo’s vines, its roots. They were broken and confused and scared, just like him.  _ Don’t help me. The crystal.  _

“Keith? What are--” Laying beside him, the real Lance gasped as he felt it. Of course he could feel it. Keith watched the tears gather in his eyes. “No. No! Keith, you can’t!”

“I have to.” His own voice was so faint Keith wasn’t even sure he was talking out loud. 

He coughed. Blood dribbled down his chin.

“I’m sorry.”

He was sorry. He was. He was so sorry that it broke his heart. But this was the only way, there was no other option. 

His tattoo was acid. It was trembling, shaking, flying like the Aurora Borealis. 

Dissolving. 

Soon there would be only scar tissue.

In front of him, the crystal began to glow. The faint heartbeat within stirred. 

“I won’t let you do this.” Lance struggled into a sitting position, his back to the crystal, and drew Keith up into his lap. He kissed him, again and again. His mouth tasted so much like Lance that it nearly changed Keith’s mind. How could he ever leave this behind? “I won’t let you do this. Don’t go somewhere I can’t follow.”

“Are you...quoting  _ The Lord of the Rings _ at me? While I die?”

“ _ Two Towers _ , actually.” And that’s what did it. Keith sobbed, and let his head fall into Lance’s chest. His heart was breaking. Ripping apart into shreds, and the pain of it was unimaginable. He was leaving this boy. Forever. There would be no more improvised dances, no more kissing, no more Lance playing with Keith’s hair. No more, no more, no more. Keith would claw his own beating, pumping, twisting organs out, if it meant stopping this pain. 

In his head, Keith let go of Lance’s hand, and turned away. The connections of the cosmic ink on his back began to snap like green twigs. 

Lance’s tears were angels on his cheeks. 

 

_ 1 minute before _

Here, at the end of the world, Lance cradled the dying boy in his arms. Of course, he was dying too. The last Galra, after shooting Keith, had hit him twice in the chest before Allura had killed him. 

But it was okay, Lance thought. He always been afraid of dying, but he would have some comfort. In the next life there would always be Keith. He would miss his family friends, of course. More than he could ever understand. But he would not be alone in death and rebirth. 

This, though. Lance felt his soul being torn apart, or rather, torn  _ from _ something. Keith was giving up their connection, using its incredible power to give their friends a chance to survive. 

He wanted to scream in frustration and agony. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Death stalked him like a bird of prey, and now his soulmate, the one person in the universe he was destined for, was unanchoring himself.  _ No. No. _ What was he supposed to do?

He couldn’t seem to stop crying. Keith, Keith, Keith he said. Over and over again. Rocking back and forth with the boy that was soon to be a body. Keith, Keith. 

Time was running out.

“Allura.” Lance looked up. Allura was crumpled on the dais, her hands slick with death and face with tears. She wiped the heel of her hand across her face to try and cover the gaping expression of looming loss. She knew as well as he what was going to happen. “As soon as you can, open a wormhole. Get everyone out of here. Make sure that the Quintessence Core can’t reform.” Billions of lives would be saved, if the Galra couldn’t rebuild it.  “We’ll be okay,” he added, and wanted to believe it desperately. 

Allura nodded, once. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said. And then, in Altean; an ancient prayer she had taught them. _“S’tayi s’yavati.”_ _Go in peace and light._

As he gazed at the stars, Lance pressed his lips to Keith’s forehead and turned inward. 

**

He felt the Quintessence glowing all around them. It illuminated their intertwined souls, the bonds that were breaking like bridges before a storm. As they were torn apart, they released energy; was a giant web of shifting, multi-colored light in space. Lance could feel Keith directing it. 

_ Keith,  _ he said in that strange mindspace, that nothing in-between their souls _.  _ They were both naked, but blurred, their skin luminous with atavistic love in the darkness of that space. These were their souls. Pure, and together. Little trails of light connected the flower on Lance’s hip to its twin on Keith, and it was these tendrils that were shaking, breaking. 

Panic flashed across Keith’s face.  _ You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re still connected! I won’t take that from you!  _

Floating in space, Lance cupped Keith’s unmarked face. Their tears floated in perfect globes around them, unhindered by gravity. 

_ You don’t have a choice. Anywhere you go, I’ll follow.  _

_ Even into this? _

There was no guarantee, if they did this. There would be no tattoo, only the scar Lance knew that the burning he felt would leave behind.

_ Anywhere you go. _

_ But how will you find me? _

_ Do you really think I need some stupid tattoo to follow you?  _ Lance kissed Keith, hard. He was starving, dying with hunger for this boy. The only desire in him was to be so close that he would forget where his mouth ended and Keith’s began. 

And now they were breaking, truly breaking from each other, becoming untethered. The last of the shifting fingers of light that ran between Lance’s hip and Keith’s back shuddered and disseminated into microscopic stars. Lance would go into death, not knowing if he would ever see Keith again. His heart could stay broken for a hundred lifetimes, and the universe would take no pity on them. 

He drew Keith into his arms, brushed back some floating bits of Keith’s hair, and kissed him again. Keith’s hands ran down Lance’s chest. Their mouths opened, and Lance tasted the salt of tears. 

Together, they turned toward the shifting miasma of energy. 

Keith took Lance’s hand. 

_ Are you ready? _

_ Yup.  _

They surged the energy forward, into the crystal. 

_Keith?_ _  
_ _Yeah?_

_ Don’t forget our date.  _

_ Eight o’clock tonight. I’ve never had a date in the next life before.  _

_ Business-casual. I’ll pick you up. You choose the restaurant.  _

Keith squeezed Lance’s hand, and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. He whispered,  _ I’ll find a good one. I’ll find you.  _

That was it. Lance couldn’t speak anymore, because his thoughts were unraveling, unspooling like thread. All he could see was that neon nebula of their love, drifting away. All he could feel was Keith’s skin. His warmth. Love. 

He looked at Keith as his eyes dissolved. The last thing he ever saw would be that incredible love. 

One more heartbeat. One last kiss. 

Lance’s thoughts ended, and his soul began again. 

 

_ 12 years after _

The boy sat with his toes poking in the pebbles that could generously be called sand, even though the day was cold and grey and uninviting. Absentmindedly, he reached up and around to scratch at the scar between his shoulderblades. Usually he was afraid to take off his shirt because of it, but he was alone with the ocean. Nobody could make fun of him here. Not even for his eyes strange, pinkish-red eyes. Usually, he was up in the lighthouse. Leaning on the rails. Searching endlessly over the stark horizon of the sea. Searching for what, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that he had to look. 

But today, the waves had called louder than normal.

He sat up because the sun was starting to burn through his eyelids. Even with the clouds it hurt. The ocean lapped at his feet, grey-blue diamonds spreading away into infinity. The boy knew that there was a whole world beyond the island where only he and his mother lived in the lighthouse, but he had never seen it. He had never even been off Earth. 

The stars above the island were incredibly clear. Sometimes, the boy could almost imagine himself among them. They were safe now. The Galra had been wiped out twelve years ago, or so the stories went. Two heroes of red and blue had allowed the Defenders of the Universe to deal a crippling blow to the Galra, and that had been the beginning of the end of the war. Every time a shooting star streaked across the sky, the boy half hoped it was the legendary Voltron, coming home to Earth. 

He was just standing to brush the sand from his legs when something caught his eye. It was a dark lump, way out in the water. The boy squinted. And then his eyes widened. 

“Mom!” He called. “Mom!  _ Mom! _ ”

There was no time to wait for his mother to come. Hopping along on one foot as he stripped off his shorts, he ran out into the water. It quickly covered his knees and then his chest; he was a small boy, easily pushed around. Before long he was swimming. 

His hands found their prize. Sputtering and backpedaling, the boy dragged the driftwood back through the waves and onto shore. 

With a heave, he turned the wood’s occupant onto his back. 

“Are you okay? Hello?” It was a boy, just like him. He even looked to be his own age. The castaway wore nothing but a scrap of cloth. His skin was red and peeling with sunburn. 

The living boy was just about to start blowing air into the (maybe) dead one’s lungs when he suddenly coughed, and seawater dribbled down his chin. 

“Yes! There you go!” The boy pressed on the castaway’s chest. More water came out like a pump, and soon the castaway was opening his eyes. 

The boy gasped. The eyes he was looking at were brilliantly blue. More so than he had ever seen on anyone. 

With a groan, the castaway smiled. How on earth was he smiling in a situation like this? “H-hello.”

“Hi.” 

_ Look anywhere but those eyes. _ Those eyes that burned holes in the boy’s head. He swept his gaze downward, and--

\--there. On the castaway’s hip: a scar. 

But not just any scar. This one looked like his own. 

A rose. 

The boy swallowed. His mouth was suddenly drier than the sand he knelt in. “How...how did you get here?” 

Something streaked overhead, in the corner of his eye: a shooting star.  _ Voltron? _ Yeah, he wished. 

“Well,” the castaway said, blinking those blue, blue eyes at him. His own answer seemed to confuse him. “I followed you.”   
  



End file.
